I Am Jose-Chapter 117 - : Role Playing

"0-2, Real Madrid suffer a home defeat, ending their perfect home record!"

"Winning streak stopped at eight! Mallorca—the giant killers!"

"After defeating Barcelona 2-0 at home in Round 17, Mallorca once again showcased their reputation as giant killers by beating Real Madrid 2-0 at the Bernabéu. Goals from Luke and Eto'o secured Mallorca's third consecutive win since the winter break. Since José's return, the team has been in remarkable form, racking up seven wins and two draws in their last nine matches. They have now climbed to fifth place in the standings, just five points behind fourth-placed Valencia! Despite Madrid's loss, they remain relatively unaffected thanks to Valencia's own defeat, maintaining a five-point lead over second-placed Deportivo La Coruña. However, for Mallorca, this victory fuels their hopes of breaking into the top four and recapturing the glory of the 1998-99 season."

For Mallorca, beating both Real Madrid and Barcelona in quick succession was a huge morale booster. The players were ecstatic, and the moment they returned to the dressing room, they erupted in celebration.

"We've beaten both Madrid and Barça! Who can stop us now? No one, that's who!"

José watched his players, smiling but saying nothing. He didn't try to suppress their euphoria or rein in their over-the-top statements. With such a young squad, it was only natural for them to get carried away after big wins. Better to let them release their excitement now rather than bottle it up.

After some thought, José decided to give the squad a well-earned day off. Mallorca had begun their mid-season training camp three or four days earlier than other clubs. That extra preparation had paid off with three straight wins, but it also meant the players had sacrificed part of their winter break. While José didn't see it as a big deal, now seemed like a good time to reward them.

"Alright, guys, settle down a bit. We're still in Madrid, after all. Let's not overdo it," José said with a grin, more in jest than as an actual reprimand.

His words only fueled the players' excitement, and another round of cheers echoed through the dressing room.

"Mallorca forever!"

Once the noise finally died down, José raised a hand for quiet. The players turned their attention to him, still grinning ear to ear.

"You guys have done brilliantly in these three games, especially against Madrid and Barcelona. I'm proud of you. Since you've worked hard, you deserve some rest. So, I'm giving you a full day off. You're free to do whatever you want in Madrid until tomorrow at this time. Just make sure you're back at the hotel by then."

As soon as he finished speaking, the room exploded in celebration once more.

A day off in Madrid? That was infinitely more exciting than spending another day in Mallorca. While their home city was a beautiful tourist destination, it lacked the vibrant nightlife of Madrid. For most players, entertainment in Mallorca consisted of visiting a handful of bars. But here? This was an international metropolis, a city of endless possibilities.

José knew exactly what he was doing by announcing the break in Madrid rather than back home. If the players were going to let loose, he'd rather they did it properly.

The moment the announcement sank in, the players were already rushing to get back to the hotel. There was no time to waste; they needed to shower, change, and hit the town.

As he watched his squad disappear down the tunnel, José's assistant, Natal, approached him with a slightly concerned expression.

"Are you sure about this, José? We've got a Copa del Rey match in three days. What if they overdo it?"

José chuckled. "Most of them won't even play that match. We've got a two-goal cushion from the first leg, and I don't see us throwing that away. Besides, balance is key. A long season still lies ahead. Let them enjoy themselves."

"Unbelievable. Antonio spent the entire flight telling me to keep the players in check, and now he's nowhere to be found. I swear, I'm the only responsible one in this entire club."

José muttered to himself as he strolled down the now eerily silent hotel hallway. Mallorca had booked an entire floor for the team, but by this point, almost everyone had vanished into the Madrid nightlife. Even the coaching staff had made themselves scarce, likely off exploring the city's many clubs.

Not that José was worried. These were grown men who could take care of themselves. Unlike in England, where Premier League players seemed to make headlines for all the wrong reasons, Spain's footballers had a far better track record when it came to their off-field behavior.

Bored, José decided to check out one of Madrid's famous bars. However, the moment he stepped inside, he spotted a familiar group—his own players. Eto'o, Ronaldinho, and Luke were sitting with Real Madrid stars Casillas, Raúl, and Figo, chatting and laughing like old friends.

"Well, that's interesting," José mused before quickly backing out of the bar. He had no issue sharing a drink with Madrid players, but as a head coach, he had to be careful. This bar was bound to attract journalists, and the last thing he needed was a misleading headline suggesting he was plotting a move to Real Madrid or—worse—trying to poach their players.

With no other plans, he wandered the streets for a while but found nothing that truly interested him. Madrid had no shortage of distractions, but the typical nightlife scene wasn't what he was looking for. Deep down, his mind was elsewhere, occupied by a lingering thought.

"I'll see you again one day," he muttered to himself, lost in reflection.

Eventually, feeling uninspired, José returned to the hotel. "Might as well turn in early. Tomorrow, I'll check out the youth teams around the city. Who knows? Maybe I'll find a hidden gem."

The next morning, José woke up feeling groggy despite having slept for ten hours. Throughout the night, the hallway had been filled with the occasional bursts of laughter from returning players, waking him up at odd intervals.

After a quick breakfast, he found himself with nothing to do. That's when he decided to put his plan into motion.

Dressed in a long black coat with the collar turned up, a matching hat, and oversized sunglasses, he examined himself in the mirror. The disguise was deliberate—today, he would be playing a different role.

"A top-class scout never reveals his identity. Otherwise, you risk getting jumped by rival clubs before you can make your move."

Satisfied with his appearance, José set off on his mission. His first stop: Valdebebas, home to Real Madrid's youth academy.

His goal was simple—scout potential talent. He vaguely remembered that Juan Mata had come through Madrid's system, though his chances in the first team had been limited before he eventually joined Valencia. And beyond Mata, Madrid's academy had plenty of promising youngsters: De la Red, Granero, Javi García, Negredo...

If Madrid didn't plan to use them, José certainly wouldn't mind swooping in.

Blending in with a group of scouts, José ignored the irritated looks from Madrid's youth coaches and observed the training session. Occasionally, he caught snippets of conversation from the young players discussing last night's match.

"If only they knew their team's conqueror is standing right next to them..." he thought with amusement.

However, after a while, he realized he wasn't spotting any standout players. Perhaps they were too young to showcase their full potential, or maybe his scouting eye wasn't as sharp as he'd like to believe.

As he turned to leave, he overheard two scouts whispering.

"That guy's leaving already? He must be a rookie. No notes, nothing. His boss is going to tear him apart."

José smirked. "Joke's on you. I am the boss."

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With that, he walked out, ready for his next stop.